That's Captain Benny to you
by gackt groupie
Summary: The rest of the crew knew Dean was the favorite, and there were whispered rumors of what went on in their Captain's quarters. Thing is, they were right.


Dean's breath left him as he was pressed face first against the door of the ship's cabin, the wood soft and smooth from the heavy ocean air. The hand that gripped his wrists behind his back were followed by a strong warm body, finely whiskered lips trailing up his throat and sinking in the occasional bite.

"_Fuck," _he hissed, "would you take it easy? You've already got me, I ain't going anywhere!" He struggled, not to get away, because that was so very far from what he wanted. No, he struggled because _they weren't close enough. _He couldn't turn around, couldn't take the man by throat and toss him onto the small cot and _consume him._

A deep rumble vibrated through Benny's chest, tickling Dean's spine.

"I'm pretty sure 'Captain' belongs somewhere in that sentence, sailer," he crooned, nipping at an ear lobe. Dean shivered against his captain's grip, resulting in the man clamping a hand over his mouth, gentle 'sshh shh's whispering into his ear.

"Keep quiet Dean, and I might find it in my heart to forgive your..insubordination." Benny's voice was deep, commanding, illiciting his desired reaction no matter what is said. Not that Dean puts up much of a fight anyway. Ever since he was discovered as a stowaway, the man had fought his way from the cell to deck. His strength and skill with a blade rocketed him through the ranks quickly, until the day that he found himself as first mate.

As a man of the sea and few pleasures, well, let's just say that Benny got while the getting was good, and Dean was only too willing. What wonderful luck.

Fast forward to now, to the fingers that were fumbling with the fastening of Dean's breeches, to the taste of Dean's flesh beneath his tongue, the salt of the air and sweat mingling into a new and not unpleasant new flavor.

Finally unfastened, the cloth slithered down to the floor, revealing a tanned ass and strong legs. Benny hummed and stroked a reverent hand down the right cheek.

"Beautiful," he drawled, sliding down to his knees. He released Dean's hands, letting the man grasp at the smooth wall as his own hands trickled down the spine to grasp handfuls of flesh, kneading at the firm ass. He pressed a kiss to the flesh between his thumb and pointer, sank his teeth in. Dean moaned and lurched, almost pulling himself free from his captains grasp. This was fixed by him reaching around to splay a hand over Dean's stomach, holding him in place.

"Be still, brother." Whispers lost to the sound of his own pounding pulse, his breath barely making it out of his chest in labored pants. An answering shift of Dean's hips brought his fingers into contact with hardened flesh, Dean's erection. He grasped it without another thought.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, gently stroking. Dean nodded, a muttered 'son of a bitch, _yes,' _in response. The pirate smirked, all teeth and gleaming eyes.

"Yes _what?" _his voice darkened, dripping with feigned malice. None of his other recruits would ever hear his voice sound like this.

"_Fuck, _Captain. Captain, alright? Just, please.." He was begging, and he _hated _to beg, hated it with every ounce of his being. It had almost gotten him killed on more than one occasion.

Benny felt honored to be the exception to the rule.

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

With a rather impressive show of strength Dean was turned, his back banging against the wall where his face and chest had just been, a yelp dead in his throat as his cock disappeared down the wet and scorching heat of his captain's throat.

"_Fuck!" _was what came out instead, because _holy fuck _this had never happened before. Never had he felt the tongue that was currently sliding up the length, wrapping around the head, nor the lips that followed, cheeks hollowing and _sweet jesus oh god._

He hears the shuffling of clothe, the jingle of a buckle being undone and he looks down to see that Benny (excuse me, _Captain) _has his own dick in his hands and is stroking at an easy pace. The subtle sound of flesh sliding against flash mixes in with the gentle wet sucking sounds to make a kind of rhythm.

"God, _yes," _he moans, he eyes falling closed and his head tilting back to rest against the wall. His hips stutter, wanting to fuck into the hot mouth.

"Nng, Benny, ah Captain, _sorry, _just, _yes."_

"_Dean," _he whispered just has heatedly, jacking himself quicker. It was fast becoming too much, was bound to end far too quickly.

"God..!" he gasped, pressure building rapidly, he couldn't, not now, not when-

"We have all night Dean," swollen lips whispered along his shaft, "there is always round two. Or three. Or however many it takes until we are sated. Let go." He swallowed the dripping bit of flesh again, savoring the fevered twitch and desperate moans falling from his first mates lips. His own impending orgasm was close, his hand quickening to a desperate pace.

"I don't want-"

"_That's an order," _he growled, and that did it- he barely managed to swallow the thing back down again before it was spurting hot down his throat, Dean's low moans echoing in his ears. He made a pleased hum, swallowing it all, _savoring _it.

"_Benny, god, Benny!" _

But the captain didn't hear him, as he himself was lost in his own orgasm, wave after wave of pleasure washing through him. He fell forward, limp, and rested his cheek against a trembling thigh.

"You ok, Captain?" Dean laughed above him. Benny smiled, a chuckle escaping his open lips.

"I think I'll live," he murmured. He took a proffered hand, let himself be pulled to his feet and led to his cot. Dean lay beside him, pulling their pilfered quilts up around them, trapping their joint heat. The sea captain wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, pulled him close. This was something else the rest of the crew would never see. Sure, they knew Dean was the favorite, the most trusted. Sure, they wanted to be jealous, but after witnessing the former stowaway cleave a man's head from his shoulders with a single swing they decided that a little favoritism was the least of their problems.

Besides, when the gold he was bringing in nearly doubled their previous pillaged treasury, what the hell did they care?


End file.
